Late Night Musing
by EvilCreampuff
Summary: Summaries will be the death of me. Johnny starts having rather 'interesting' thoughts while star gazing with Edgar. NnyxEdgar. Please R&R.


Author's note: I will dedicate this story to the wonderful Zarla, since I would have never written it if it weren't for her fanfic "Vargas". I suggest you go read it before reading mine. It will make more sense. Mmm'yup.

Disclamer: I do not own Jhonny C. or Edgar Vargas. They are both from Jhonny The Homicidal Maniac owned by the brilliant Jhonen Vasquez. I also don't own Scriabin. Zarla thought him up.

**Late Night Musing**

The sky was clear, which of course meant a rather impressive view of the stars if you got far away from the city's light pollution. The night air was brisk and breezy, not uncomfortably so, however wearing a coat was appropriate. The city's best vantage point stood tall over the city where all the busy, disgusting humans went about their daily life. Giving the late hour, only two thin silhouettes could be seen on the cliff. One was worryingly thin and hunched into a rather questionable seating position on the hood of an old grey car and the other, slightly taller, was sitting by the other. Johnny had wanted to go see a movie and since refusing an invitation from the maniac could prove to be quite dangerous for one's life, Edgar went with him. The movie had ended and Nny seemed happy, as happy as he could get, so he found it appropriate to go star gazing. Edgar did not argue.

_Isn't this sweet? Your psychopath lover brought you to make-out reef after your date. _

_Stop it, Scriabin. It's not a date and you know it. _

Edgar regretted having taken the time to answer Scriabin's taunt, for he almost missed the first words that broke the long and somewhat awkward silence. He still managed to hear Johnny utter (mutter, to be more accurate.) " What if ..." before trailing off.

With a small blink, Edgar turned to look at Johnny. Was Nny going to continue, or was he done talking? Had he missed the beginning of what was said in his distraction? He spoke in a poise tone, afraid as always that the wrong choice of words or tone could upset the rather unstable man next to him. "What was that?"

Nny turned to look over at Edgar, his head tilted slightly as if he had just remembered him being there. The maniac took a short pause before answering, seeming to have momentarily forgotten all together what he had murmured an instant ago. His tone was calm and grave. "You must know how alarmingly close you were from being torn to pieces that time I captured you. I'm sure you thought about it."

Another pause, and without really realizing it, Edgar's fingers idly ran over one of the scar under his eyes. The permanent reminders of that frightening night that had changed his dull and uneventful life forever. It made him shiver. The scarred man wasn't sure why Johnny was bringing the memory up now, but he knew that he most likely had point to make. Nny never talked for the sake of talking alone. He remained silent as to wait for the other to continue his train of thought, however Johnny just stared at him expectantly.

This was thus his cue to speak. He tried to pick his words carefully, not certain of what the maniac was expecting as an answer. " Ah...well, there isn't much to think about on my end. I would be dead." He smiled a bit, to accompany the attempt at humor he had made to lighten the rather gloomy conversation.

_Liar._.

_You think about it all the time._

Edgar feared he might have said the wrong thing, for now he received a sharp, unnerving look.

However, Johnny did finally end the tense moment after staring at him for what felt like much too long. He looked up at the starry night and continued in a musing tone, as if the other had not said anything at all, which relieved poor Edgar quite so. " I would have pulled the lever without hesitation, ripped you apart and collected your blood to keep _IT_ behind the wall. Yet, by some freakish twist of fate, something intercepted your inevitable death."

With an oddly amused grin, Nny looked back at him. His tone had become unreadable, somewhere between detached and avid. "So it makes you think, doesn't it? What if I _had_ killed you? What if you should not be alive at this very moment, destined to become of my countless victims."

There was yet another pause and Edgar simply nodded slowly, afraid that he might once again be expected to answer. This time, he was not sure he would be even able to find a suitable response. It was hard to predict how Nny would react to things. Fortunately, Johnny continued.

Nny's tone and demeanor changed dramatically, a bit too frantic to still be considered musing. His voice was more agitated, his hands gesturing wildly as he continued his philosophical reflection. It was much like when the maniac started ranting upon the twisted nature of humans, which, Edgar noted, was never a very good state of mind for him to be in. "This just comes back to what I was telling you; an imperceptible shifting of accepted realities. What if 'What if ' is a reality of its own, another option, one of the many plausible outcomes that accompanies a decision. Considering how very fragile the certainty of what realism truly is, 'What if ' could be as real as our present reality, would it not?"

_Uh oh. He has that look in his eyes..._ Warned Scriabin, though at this point, it could do little to spare Edgar from Nny's homicidal tendencies.

Indeed, with a stealth and agility that only Jhonny and felines seem to share, maniac lunched on Edgar, electing a surprised gasp from him. Before the poor man knew it, he felt those icy fingers clasp around his throat as well as a bony knee on his stomach, effectively pinning him down on the hood of the car. Panic overcame his senses as he looked up at Nny, who's insanity was easily readable in his features. It was like staring death in the face.

He leered in close to Edgar's face, now screeching. "What if I killed you right now! Would it even matter since you should have suffered a bloody death months ago by my hand? What stops me from killing you!" The grip tightened, the knee pushed down harder. "What if this conversation is not even happening, if it's a 'What if', if its not a reality! A figment of mine or someone else's imagination!"

Edgar was no fool; he knew that attempting to fight Nny off would do little help him, for the maniac already had the upper hand. Reasoning might do better. Then again, it's hard to reason with a violent madman, especially when your windpipe is getting crushed. His own hand clutched at Nny's fingers, trying to pry them off enough to draw out painfully. " The only reality that matters is the one we are currently in."

He received a vicious glare, but the constant squeezing of his neck seemed to slow down. Johnny appeared to be contemplating the words as his solid grip around the shaking man's throat loosened slightly, allowing him to gasp in a breath. Very reluctantly, the claw-like fingers left Edgar all together before the thin form slipped away from him, a very distant look on his face. He spoke barely above a whisper. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

Edgar watched silently as the other returned to a seated position on the hood of the car, wrapping thin arms around his knees. His heart was still beating frantically, as it usually did when the maniac suddenly attacked him, but he slowly straightened himself up. Johnny looked almost fragile, shaking slightly as he was. So very different than he had been instants ago. It was almost hard to believe that he could have killed him effortlessly. Edgar knew that now that the abrupt mood-swing has passed, he had little reason to truly fear for his life... for tonight at least.

_Oh yes, because it's easy to predict the random angry fits of a deranged homicidal maniac._

Edgar chose to ignore Scriabin.

It was better to concentrate on the maniac he had somehow managed to befriend, grown to care for. Having judged it safe to talk again, the man mustered a small smile as he spoke words he remembered having said before. An eternity ago in one of the many underground chambers, strapped painfully and bargaining for his life. " I don't suppose that your hmm...current reality, plan on not killing me."

Nny glanced up, away from the boots he had been staring at with that awkwardness of his. He seemed puzzled for a moment, his brow arching up. Either or not he actually remembered hearing similar words from Edgar before was not certain, yet his response was the same: " No. I don't think so."

Edgar chuckled lightly, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. " I see. I can't say I'm surprised."

Silence came again, though this time perhaps not as awkwardly as before. The confusion was gone, the questioning was put aside. Even Scriabin's unpleasant and sarcastic comments seemed to have quieted, for the moment at least. Johnny C. would kill Edgar one day and Edgar was accepting of his fate.

Very carefully, Edgar lifted his hand to gently place it over Nny's cold, bony one. He did not look over to see what sort of expression the maniac would have on his face, but instead admired the bright city lights below. Johnny, although having flinched at first, did not attempt to move away from the contact. His cold fingers parted lightly, an unstated invitation that Edgar took by lacing his own fingers with his.

They both sat in silence together.

**Ending Note:**

Creampuff: Hey, Nny?

Nny: What?

Creampuff: You were right. This whole thing never actually happened. In reality you _did_ kill Edgar. Messed up fans made him alive for personal amusement. Actually, you're not even real. You're from a comic book made by an awful yet brilliant cartoonist man.

Nny:eye twitch: W..wh..-stabs Creampuff- Blaaaargh! I knew it!

Creampuff: Oh noes:bleeds: Well, it's alright, since this is also not happening.

Nny:Brain overload: ... :goes on a killing rampage:


End file.
